Atadiusti

Wake up!

You're alone in the dark

Beat up

and battered and still you

Crack up!

No one's coming to help you.

When you cry.

 

Wake up and open your eyes!

I am the hero you need

Stand up and open your eyes!

I am the hero you can believe in

Chin up and open your eyes!

Rely on me and I can get you through this...

Don't you dare hide.

 

Why do I walk with confidence?

Why do I save them?

Why do I refuse to back down?

Why do I fight when

I'm battling overwhelming odds?

Don't you forget then

It's better than surrender

 

Wake up!

You're alone in the dark

Beat up

and battered and still you

Stand up!

No one's coming to help you.

It's time to try

 

Wake up and open your eyes!

You are the hero you need

Stand up and open your eyes!

You are the hero you can believe in

Chin up and open your eyes!

Rely on yourself to get you through this...

Don't you dare hide.

 

Why do you walk with confidence?

Why do you save them?

Why do you refuse to back down?

Why do you fight when

You're battling overwhelming odds?

Don't you forget then

It's better than surrender

Lean in and listen close

I know the secret they never tell:

There is no heaven, only hell

And this is it

I'm living in it!

 

Get me out of here!

Can anyone hear?

I want to be someplace better

Get me out of here!

Does anyone hear?

I don't want to live here forever

Take me somewhere greater

 

Why is it the walls have ears

And all the people cannot hear

The children's cries

Hidden behind the lies

They're just fine

Everything's alright

When you turn off the light

 

Get me out of here!

Can anyone hear?

I want to be someplace better

Get me out of here!

Does anyone hear?

I don't want to live here forever

Take me somewhere greater

 

If I begged for life today

Would you turn and walk away?

Leave my life in disarray

It's a never-ending loop

Until you realize the truth:

I'm not fine

Nothing is alright

Don't turn out the light

 

Get me out of here!

Can anyone hear?

I want to be someplace better

Get me out of here!

Does anyone hear?

I don't want to live here forever

Take me somewhere greater

 

I'm not fine

Nothing is alright

Don't turn out the light

Don't leave me tonight

 

I want to be someplace better

I wrote this song to promote tolerance, and to emphasize that different people have different ethics and logical processes, and it doesn't mean they are bad or evil.

 

Keeping my head held high

And it's all I can do

To keep from crawling on my knees

Raging

Defiant

(Riot!)

Beaten down again

But back to my feet

I will never be one of you

Because I am only me!

 

You tell me that it's bad for me to feel this way

But it feels so good

You tell me that it's wrong for me to feel this way

But it feels so Right

 

Feeling the love flow by

There's only lust for you

And when you go down on your knees

Don't you

Deny it

(Want it!)

Going down again

Cause I want to feel

Like I am a faction of you

I want your disease!

 

You tell me that it's bad for me to feel this way

But it feels so good

You tell me that it's wrong for me to feel this way

But it feels so Right

 

Don't you judge me for how I behave

I'd rather be free than some sort of slave

You call me evil when I don't share your ethics

Where you see good, I see sad and wretched!

 

You tell me that it's bad for me to feel this way

But it feels so good

You tell me that it's wrong for me to feel this way

But it feels so Right

The life that I'm living

The love that I'm hating

The way that I'm seeing

You tell me it's wrong

Tell me it's wrong but

It feels so right!

"The Box" is about breaking up, and specifically references an ex girlfriend I parted extraordinarily unwell with, but we had some of the best of times together before then. Hats off to HW, I hope the Pen enjoys:

 

 

I still have the box

That says I have your heart

It makes me wonder why we split apart

 

And I miss you

And I think I loved you, babe

I loved the care that you gave

And I loved the love that we made

You were the reason that

I slept and woke up again

But now that's all gone

And I'll always remember when

 

And now you're gone

And I've moved on

We needed space to breathe

But, girl, you deserved much better than me

 

I still have the box

That says I have your heart

But I remember why we had to split apart

 

The constant fights

Where we both just had to be right

And all the inquisitions

based on jealous insecurities

Yeah, we were pretty young,

But you left your impression.

I'm no good with people

But I think we did okay.

 

But now you're gone

And I've moved on

We needed space to breathe

But, girl, you deserve

You'll always deserve so much better than me.

Accounted for.

Just because it is a matter of taste doesn't mean it is not typical. I am perfectly aware it's a matter of taste; that's why it was a minor edit, and why I only suggested you change it only if it was accidental. I was half asleep the first time I read that, and I can see the pattern now: You only begin a line with a capital letter when a new sentence begins. On a second inspection you have a semi-colon where there should be a comma or colon

I cannot take you at your word;

not for something so absurd.

"not for something so absurd" is a dependant clause.

 

And no, it does not look silly to me.

Nicely put. I'd have to say just about every human goes through a period of low self-esteem at least once. Having been through a nice long period myself, I STILL find it annoying as all-get-out, when anyone puts themselves down unjustly, ie a beautiful girl calling herself ugly, or a brilliant person calling themselves stupid (they sure are acting as such for believing it, especially when they don't believe they have a choice).

 

Beauty itself is subjective. It's one thing that cannot exist without its polar opposite, and one with an ever changing meaning - We could not define beauty without ugliness, or good without bad, or dark without light. In the late Victorian era, obesity was found to be attractive in a woman, whereas now, it is found to be unattractive. In fact, I've found my tastes seem to be unique where it comes to beauty, further illustrating the point. If you still can't like what you see, change it. It will take work, but it's worth it if you want to better yourself in your own self-image.

 

Extremely minor edit: As I'm sure you know, typically every line in a poem begins with capital letters or all lower-case letters. I am trying to find a pattern as to why you did otherwise but I cannot. If this was an accident, you may wish to correct it.

Haha. Excellent intuition. It IS a song as are the rest. And I am putting them all to music.

Something's hiding beneath the surface

Underneath the blood and skin

A force inside me I can't control

(won't control)

Don't you feel it?

Feel a power that's flowing

(within me)

Can't you see it?

See the animal in me

(the real me)

 

They always try to tame me

To beat me down and break me

Lock me in a cage of lies

And hostility

 

But they'll never hold me down

No!

 

Something's hiding beneath the surface

Underneath the blood and skin

A force inside me I can't control

(won't control)

Don't you feel it?

Feel a power that's flowing

(within me)

Can't you see it?

See the animal in me

(the real me)

 

You're all driving me insane

You shun what you can't explain

Don't you think I've gone crazy

I won't be contained

 

And you'll never keep me down

No!

 

Something's hiding beneath the surface

Underneath the blood and skin

A force inside me I can't control

(won't control)

Don't you feel it?

Feel a power that's flowing

(within me)

Can't you see it?

See the animal in me

(the real me)

 

Look into my eyes

What do you see?

Can you see the beast

The animal that's inside of me?

When you die, hope for a tunnel light

Because Evil wings will flap tonight

And their blood red eyes will always know

To send you where you don’t want to go

 

Then you go down, down

Down below the ground

Where light never shines

Welcome to Hell!

Step in the threshold

Cross inside the portal

Let anguish pervade you

Make yourself comfortable,

You’re here for eternity.

 

And you'll be torn apart grain by grain

Only to feel it over again

Allow yourself your rage to consume

A private cage to seal your own doom

 

Then you go down, down

Down below the ground

Where light never shines

Welcome to Hell!

Step in the threshold

Cross inside the portal

Let anguish pervade you

Make yourself comfortable

You’re here for eternity.

 

When you die, hope for a tunnel light

Because Evil things will come tonight

And those blood red eyes will always know

To send you where you’re going to go

(Where you're going to go)

 

Then you go down, down

Down below the ground

Where light never shines

Welcome to Hell!

Step in the threshold

Cross inside the portal

Let anguish pervade you

Pain you never knew

Make yourself comfortable,

You’re here for eternity.

 

Then you go down, down

Down below the ground

Where light never shines

Welcome to Hell!

 

Welcome to Hell!

This pain

Never goes away

No matter how hard I try

I can't keep this wound at bay

I feel lost inside

My black will never fade to grey

 

I am

I am the darkness that surrounds you

I am

I am the voices from within you

I am your fear

I am your hate

I am your insanity

 

I am

I am the face of your lie

Bold as the sun in the sky

The night won't hide you from me

Peekaboo, I see you

 

I am

I am the darkness that surrounds you

I am

I am the voices from within you

I am your fear

I am your hate

I am your insanity

 

I am

I am the pain that you cause

Back at you with fangs and claws

There's now safe haven from me

Peekaboo, I see you

 

I am

I am the darkness that surrounds you

I am

I am the voices from within you

I am your fear

I am your hate

I am your insanity

 

These thoughts always returning

The wheels will never stop turning

Can't you feel the pain that's burning me?

Can you hear the screams of those taken?

The one's you've forsaken?

Can you feel the rage you've awakened?

 

I am

I am the darkness that surrounds you

I am

I am the voices from within you

I am your fear

I am your hate

I am your insanity

 

Rip open my skin

Tear it off my body

Pull out what's within

 

Tick tock tick tock tick tock

 

Peekaboo, I see you!

I woke up feeling lost today

I need someone to help me find my way

The whole world is out to get me

And I cannot survive on my own

 

I need hero

to protect me from villainy

I need a healer

To ease the pain of this injury

I need a savior

To free me from this misery

I'm falling from my faith

I feel like I'm about to break

You're the answer to all my prayers

But you're not there!

 

I'm at war with the world and you

Need to be the one to help me fight through

Cause if I take another step

then I will fall off this precipice

 

I need hero

to protect me from villainy

I need a healer

To ease the pain of this injury

I need a savior

To free me from this misery

I'm falling from my faith

I feel like I'm about to break

You're the answer to all my prayers

But you're not there!

 

My God, My God

(My God, My God)

Why have you forsaken me?

In this maelstrom I've been thrown

My God, My God

(My God, My God)

Why have you abandoned me?

I feel like I'm all alone!

 

I need hero

to protect me from villainy

I need a healer

To ease the pain of this injury

I need a savior

To free me from this misery

I'm drifting into the dark,

Slipping away from myself

Can't seem to find a spark of hope

 

I need hero

to protect me from villainy

I need a healer

To ease the pain of this injury

I need a savior

To free me from this misery

I'm falling from my faith

I feel like I'm about to break

You're the answer to all my prayers

But you're not there!

 

My God, My God

(My God, My God)

Why have you forsaken me?

I feel so restless

All these memories haunting me

I feel so restless

Why won't anyone set me free?

 

 

Why can't the dead stay dead?

Why can't we let go of

everything and move on?

Why can't we forget them?

The ones we've lost to life?

Why can't they just stay gone?

 

It's hard to hide

From the truths

the lies, and loved ones left behind

Try to decide

Where to go

How to retrieve my peace of mind

 

 

Why can't the dead stay dead?

Why can't we let go of

everything and move on?

Why can't we forget them?

The ones we've lost to life?

Why can't they just stay gone?

 

I feel so restless...

Another day

Another time

To feel the ever-closing pressures of life

I need

Someone to hold

And tell me everything is fine

I'm about to go insane

Will I ever be,

Can I ever be alright?

 

I'll be

I'll be your dark angel

I'm watching you

from the shadows

and I'll watch you from up above

and I'll be

your guardian angel

I will protect you

from all evil

and ill be with you

through all your troubles

I'll be your dark angel

 

Everything is gonna be fine

Everything is going to be alright

Don't give up on life

Before the sun rises again

You must make it through this nightmare

You're not alone

I'm right here with you

Don't feel alone

I'm right here for you

I can tell that you're hurting

You tell me you have it rough, but you're not alone

 

(I..)

(I know...)

(I feel...)

END

THIS

NOW!

 

I know

I know pain no one alive should know

I feel

I feel pain no one ever should hold

Tell me have you seen seen a knife in your gut?

Have you ever felt a hand on your throat?

Have you ever known

Have you ever known the sorrow of being alone?

Have you stared death in the face on your own?

(But you're not alone)

 

I'll be

I'll be your dark angel

I'm watching you

from the shadows

and I'll watch you from up above

and I'll be

your guardian angel

I will protect you

from all evil

and ill be with you

through all your troubles

I'll be your dark angel

Originally, I was going to prologue the entire story with this legend, but when I orated the legend to my friends, I discovered it wasn't interesting enough alone to be a hook, and that I, telling it as a legend, like Atlantis or Camelot was missing something. I realized that I couldn't have Mort tell the legend uninterrupted. Like The Genetic Opera, it is a story that needs interruptive thoughts. And Prof. Thibodeaux is the kind of gentleman who can't contain his thoughts, and thus, was the perfect tool to create a better telling of the legend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

MORTIMER: Long ago, when the world was young, there was a society called Legueré that was made up of three islands: Atlantis, Lemuria, and Cook. The Legueren people had technology far beyond the rest of the world. When Babylon had yet to build the hanging gardens, the Leguerens had electricity, advanced medicine, plumbing, and the power of flight. But the king of Legueré, against the wishes of most of his people, wanted to build an empire that spanned the entire Earth. He had a weapon built, a weapon of unimaginable power, in order to achieve this goal.

However, by accident or by design, the weapon was sabotaged. When the weapon was unleashed, its power backfired, and caused a massive destructive cataclysm. The Earth shook, the seas boiled, and the islands began to sink into the ocean.

For Atlantis and Lemuria, there was no hope, but Cook was saved, at the last moment. I've heard that The island of Cook only survived through attaching itself to the back of a gargantuan turtle The remaining island continued its existence floating about the sea on the back of the sea turtle. Soon, however, the survivors realized that they had to regain their former technological glory, as much of their advancements were lost in the cataclysm, and still more had to be relearned in time, so they engulfed themselves and the turtle in a cloud to hide themselves from the outside world and give them time to rebuild.

 

WAHLTER: The people of Cook became travelers and traders by necessity, but eventually, it became a cultural way of life.

 

MORTIMER: That's not true at all. Cook has always had a fascination with the other cultures in the world. It's practically an ethnic trait. In fact, it's about the only one there is, aside from wanderlust. Cook is made out of a collage of different peoples from all over the world.

 

WAHLTER: My apologies, lad, I can't help interjecting sometimes. I have not heard that version of events before.

 

MORTIMER: Understandable, sir. Now back to the story: It's been said that you can't find Cook unless you've the true spirit of a Cooki, although some mariners and explorers throughout history claim to have been shipwrecked and washed upon their shores.

 

WAHLTER: Yes. I have compiled a list of accounts by those who claim to have Cook. The last documented account made by a man who washed up on Cook's shores was in 1702.

 

MORTIMER: The legend goes that soon after, the Island of Cook took to flight. Maybe the turtle had died, no longer able to ferry the island, and the Cookis built a flying contraption to keep the island from sinking into the seas. From then on it was crewmen of airships - not boats - that crash-landed upon Cook. Even these pilots are widely thought of as insane or delirious, but I know that Cook is still out there, floating through the sky, hidden in a cloud.

Just what is Cook? Where is it? Why do Mortimer and Wahlter want to find it so badly? These questions will soon be answered; Mortimer is about to reveal the legend!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Setting: Die Welke Pub, Düsseldorf, West Germany; August, 2009 AD, Afternoon

 

 

 

 

Mortimer, Wahlter, Daeic, and Alestair are all chatting around their table.

 

Wahlter ponders over his glass. “You know, lads, it's shameful, the price of whiskey theses days, why back when I was in university, I could buy 5 tankards then, for the price of one glass of this piss water today”

 

Wahlter downs his drink.

 

Wahlter asks Mortimer “As my new assistant, I must ask, are you familiar with the legend of Cook?

 

Wahlter raises his hand, index finger outstretched and waves it around in the air

Mortimer answers. “Yes, sir, I'm Cooki myself, I grew up with all the stories, and the culture.”

 

Wahler leans in, intrigued.

“Truly? Facinating! I would very much love to hear the legend straight from a Cooki. If you would oblige me of course.”

 

A waitress brings a new round of drinks to the table. Daeic watches her, smitten.

Mortimer says slowly, “Well I think I can recite it.”

 

The waitress leaves with the empty glasses, and Daeic watches her leave.

Mortimer ponders, “Now how did it start?”

Ha! that's great. Avatar meets Starcraft. I laughed hard, reading this.

~Atadiusti~

Atadiusti - The Writer

 

* ~Introduction~: Atadiusti is Cherokee for "thorn" or "bramble," and that's exactly what I fancy myself as: The thorns of a beautiful flower. I'm stoic, patient, quiet and observant; an introvert to the extreme. I take everything in stride, no matter how strange or odd, and I'm proud to say that nothing really phases me. I enjoy writing, drawing, singing, playing music, and martial arts.

 

* ~Biography~: When I was born, lightning flashed and thunder crashed. The sun and moon were hidden from view, and the skies burned. The oceans boiled and became as blood. Children screamed without knowing why, and the devil died of a heart attack. Now, I make women swoon, hooligans cower, and I live with Ozymandias.

 

Lyrics	[/headercell]
Brokn Mind	The first set posted on the Mighty Pen, and used as my application piece. It's a song about what it feels like to be in my head.
Dark Angel	It's a song written about striding forward through hard times. I wrote it when I was being exposed to a lot of negative thinking from friends and acquaintances. Everyone was thinking about giving up, that their problems made life unbearable. I thought their troubles were rather trivial when compared to all I'd been through. I wrote the song to emphasize that adversity is not something to fear, and is at once the verbalization of my collective kicks in the rear and shoulder to cry on.
Mourn, The Dead	I've been to a lot of funerals, friends and family, young and old. Everyone else is always crying, or on the verge. everyone sad, angry or both. I found nothing worth crying about, but it always has fascinated me to wonder, "how do the dead feel?" The song is meant to portray those feelings
Prayer	If one has been raised in a specific religion, it is a natural occurrence to go through a phase where one questions one's own faith and may either come out with a stronger faith, a different faith, or it could be lost entirely. "Prayers" is about my own crisis of faith.
Carpe Diem	The song is about driving forward, working toward making one's dreams come true, and seizing the day.
Welcome To Hell	[/td]
Animalias is about having a strong, prominent primal/bestial aspect to one's self and about living with it. To me, It's self empowering.
Stories
Metamorphosis	Novel WIP - Scifi Story that includes a modern setting, and 'Werewolves' with a unique, scientific explanation for existence.
The Magpie's Screams	Novel WIP - Scifi Fantasy blend story with a post-apocalyptic setting, includes magic, ESP, and beings from other dimensions such as dragons
Like Clockwork	Comic WIP Steampunk comic series; I'm working on scripts for storyboarding, and looking to get an artist draw the comic for me.

 

List of Characters

Like Clockwork

 

CharacterBrief DescriptionHistoryAbilities/SkillsPhysical DescriptionPropsPersonalityRelationships

 

Mortimer MontgomeryCooki Traveller, locksmith, group leader...Mortimer is skilled at making locks and keys, and by association is a good lockpick as well.From the top, Mortimer wears a Gatsby/derby hat. On top of the top hat, he sports a pair of goggles. For goggling at people. He has a T-Shirt with broad, horizontal black and white stripes as well as a leather jacket that doesn't quite reach his belt, though the sleeves reach his wrists.Mortimer's belt, in addition to holding up his pants, holds a keyring full of skeleton keys and the control box for his Leg Jets. Three straps support each of the (loosely) conically shaped, brass Leg Jets. Mortimer is curious, adventurous, and just a bit stubbornMort's the leader of the team, and manages to be good friends with everyone. He's Prof. Thibodeaux's assistant, though in name only.

 

Professor Wahlter John ThibodeauxRetired Archaeology and Anthropology professor at Oxford, field archaeologist, aged explorer, knight, and owner of the Airship "The Jove"...Thibodeax is great at decifering ancient texts, speaks 26 languages (27 if you count French, "those bloody frogs"), and has great experience and wisdom to share, due to his partial deafness, he has also become a proficient lip-reader.Aged, tall and lean, he has a gaunt face and greying blond hair. He is very much an English gentleman, with safari outfit. In 'civilized company', he wears a tophat.Possesses a pair of hook-shots, a net launcher, and a pneumatic hammerStill holds onto grandiose dreams of running the world from his youth, has gone senile. Is now partially deaf (although able to lip read extraordinarily well), and gives advice to the younger characters, whether solicited or not.Believes Jarvis to be his butler, a job that Jarvis actually complies to. Is the proud employer of Daeic and Alestair (and, well, everyone else).

 

Daeic Kirkphysically handicapped airship pilot for the "Jove"...Daeic is an excellent pilot, even with his handicap. Thin with dark brown hair. Is confined to a wheelchair. Left arm and both legs are partially crippled.Wheelchair has a special attachment for collapsible helicopter rotors, and another attachment for a small machine gun. Carries two handguns, but only uses one at a time.Loud, and often speaks before thinking. Believes that the Earth mocks him and likes to "stick it to gravity" whenever possible. Favorite foods are eggs and poultry, despises vegetables.Employed by Thibodeax as a personal pilot, like a chauffeur. Has a deep friendship with Alestair, and a crush on Oleta.

 

Alestair CorusGunslinger, ex-soldier, hired bodyguard for Thibodeax...Alestair is a proficient gunslinger and is a skilled marksman with any pistol or rifle. Alestair has a good mind for strategy and tactics. Alestair has learned hand to hand combat from his military days, and is astoundingly toughAverage height and average build with curly brown hair. Always wears a greatcoat over whatever clothes he wears.Has two oversized revolver handguns in holsters, and another concealed rifle hidden under his greatcoat. In cold weather, he wears a wide brimmed hatQuiet and stoic, rarely speaks. Enjoys peacefulness, but is always on guard in public areasProudly employed by Prof. Thibodeaux. Close friends with Daeic, caught in a love triangle between Oleta, and Jackie, whom he also teaches how to use a handgun.

 

Dr! Jarvis "J.D." Donovan Whitecastle ("Because the Doctor! part is important!")Licensed physician, and combat medic, psychologist (Holds Ph.D.s in Psychology, Biology, and an M.d. and was an Army Medic Corp.). Thibodeaux has hired him as the crew medic on the "Jove." Only one problem: March hares don't even come close to being as mad as Jarvis....Jarvis is an expert physician and skilled surgeon. He is an authority on the anatomy and physiology of humans and many animals besides. He is amazingly strong, quick, and agile, especially for his build. Because of his physical ability and anatomic knowledge, Jarvis is unparalleled in hand to hand combat, and is well in control of his lethality.Jarvis is tall, and lanky. He is thin, and at to most, appears nonathletic. Straight black, shoulder-length hair frames his angular, scarred face. He has a goofy, cheerful expression. Wears only a white lab coat and leather pants. In combat, he dons leather and brass shoulder pads/torso armor and a leather scrum cap with a red cross painted on top of it – Issue Medic Corp.Carries a large rectangular shield around on his back wrapped in a copper coil and attached to a battery pack. He also carries a special punching dagger/scalpel, and, while spinning on its ball bearing, can be used as a drill. He also has a special syringe with several vials around it, allowing it to work like a pen with different colored ink cartridges. J. D. Whitecastle is insane: screw-loose, and often nonsequitor, however his psychoses are mostly harmless. He is commonly very congenial, upbeat, nutty, even moronic (or seemingly so). But when calamity strikes, the goofy smile disappears, the twinkle in his eyes becomes a gleam, and he becomes "dead" serious. Jarvis firmly believes that anything and everything is subject to experimentation, including friends, family, and himself, but his ...unique sense of morality still prevents him from performing vivisections.

His medical knowledge, his surprising agility, speed and precision, and his unpredictability make him a dangerous opponent, no matter what his mood.

Jarvis is the crew physician, and as such holds a close, albeit tense (no one wants to wake up on the operating table as the subject of one of his crazy whimsical experiments), relationship with everyone. Humors Thibodeaux, as the Prof.'s senility makes him believe Jarvis is his old butler.

 

Theodore 'Jacques' TelfaireSkilled mechanic, and even more skilled chef. Hired by Thibodeaux as a cook for the "Jove"...Jacques is an amateur chef, but cooks like a pro. Is able to fix up a variety of things, from entrees to pastries, weapons, to steam engines.Fairly tall and husky build. Short, light brown hair, and a goateeWears a toge and a blacksmith's apron with dark-lensed goggles, Uses a flamethrower-pistol-with-tank-back-satchel with four nozzles: flamethrower, oxy-fuel welder, cutter, and cooking torch (flambe).

Bit of a pyromaniac, strict taste for food, loves spicy food. Highly prefers to be called 'Jacques'. Wants to become a great chef in a French restaurant. Believes fire can solve any of his problems: cooking, engineering, repairing, burning; fire does it all. Is overly descriptive of processes and situations.Is handy man for everyone's tools and such, and is constantly making repairs and upgrades. Gets along curiously well with Abigail.

 

Abigail Beatrix Schwarz, a.k.a. Black AbbeyEx-pirate, treasure hunter, airship navigator for the "Jove"...Abigail is a brilliant pilot and navigator, and is skilled at appraising treasure and valuable objects. She has a connection to the criminal underworld and black market, and as such can obtain just about anything.Abigail is a thick, butch woman of average height. Her black hair is pulled into tiny thin braids, and collectively tied back into a ponytail. She wears a black vest over a top that is cut across the shoulders. The shirt is off-white and has formal cuffs. She wears either lace fingerless gloves or some type of leather hand-accessory. She wears a maroon/crimson-red skirt that is rushed up to revel the bottom edge of her bloomers. The leggings that she wears are red and black with ankle-high buckle-up boots.Abigail carries a large revolver handgun holstered at her right thigh. She has a collar necklace with a key pendent hanging from it. Abigail is rude, vulgar, brash, and loud in order to hide the fact that inside she feels scared and alone. She is fiercely loyal and even possessive of her friends and comrades. Abigail is stubborn and can't stand the idea of being wrong.Abigail holds an influence (some would say a bad influence) on Oleta, and mentors her on life.

 

Ophelia DiLaurenciaYoung scientist specializing in sensory perception (particularly light and sound)......Tall and hefty, glasses, dark makeup, shoulder length brown hair thrown into messy pigtails. Wears wrinkled black and gray skirts, black and gray striped shirt, fingerless gloves, black boots and black buttoned vest....Generally extroverted and friendly unless offended, in which case she will become rather quiet and perhaps even secretly vengeful. Witty and loves nothing more than a good laugh. A natural sense of curiosity has given her inspiration for her creative inventions, including her sound wave weaponry. Collects anything that catches her eye, including buttons, glass and old jewelry, all of which she can be very possessive over. She dislikes conflict and the militarization of science, and as such would rather use her inventions defensively than offensively....

 

Oleta DiLaurenciaYoung female tag along, works an the capacity of an assistant for her older sister.................

 

Jacqueline "Jackie" Seraph ThaleEx-pirate, treasure hunter, airship navigator for the "Jove"..................

 

Seamus SerializesMinstrel, Sharpshooter, Mercenary Assassin, Traveling Bard..................

Thanks for the welcome, but I have to say, your portrayal of me was very off mark. For instance, everyone knows I respond to "Indeed" with "Quite," not "what?".

 

You are right about one thing though: I have a basic concept of the beat and melody, but it's not finished, and it needs tweaking.

Song lyrics I've written called "Brokn Mind"

 

My mind is a maze and I'm the rat inside,

Trying to find my way out again. This time

I can see the hate as it festers within

My demons are devouring me again.

I'm in pieces and we are all fighting for control

Of my life, of my heart, of my soul, For this hellhole

 

I am all alone beside myself.

Arguing with myself

I can't decide who I want to be

I can not define my own desires

I'm denying myself

Again, and all I see

Is me!

 

My mind is a maze and I'm the rat inside,

Trying to find my way out again. This time

I can see the hate as it festers within

My demons are devouring me again.

I'm in pieces and we are all fighting for control

Of my life, of my heart, of my soul, For this hellhole

 

I hear the voices inside my head

Screaming inside my head

Always reaching for somewhere higher

I've broken my head

Again, and all I hear

Is me!

 

My mind is a maze and I'm the rat inside,

Trying to find my way out again. This time

I can see the hate as it festers within

My demons are devouring me again.

I'm in pieces and we are all fighting for control

Of my life, of my heart, of my soul, For this hellhole

 

I see myself and what I can be

That potential in me

I am going to become what I

Really want to be

Again, but all I fear

Is me!

 

And all I hate

Is me!

 

All I see

Is me!

(me)

 

All I hear

Is me!

(me)

 

All I fear

Is me!

(me)

 

All I hate

Is me!

 

(Me, me, me, me, me, we)

 

My mind is a maze and I'm the rat inside,

Trying to find my way out again. This time

I can see the hate as it festers within

My demons are devouring me again.

A broken mind and we are all fighting for control

Of my life, of my heart, of my soul, For this hellhole.

For me!

 

me!

 

me!

 

We are me!

Not sure what I can say about this one... It seems pretty self-explanatory to me. Mortimer meets up with Sir/Professor/Dr. Wahlter Thibodeax and company assembling the first of the crew bound in search of Cook. You'll notice that Wahlter is a doctor and professor of Archaeology, that he is knighted, and that he is going senile. After I (and Ozymandias) made this character, we discovered that he's so much more bad-ass than Indiana Jones ever could be, and that's just the way we like him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Setting: Die Welke Pub, Düsseldorf, West Germany; August, 2009 AD, Afternoon

 

 

 

 

Mortimer sits at bar in the loud, though not so crowded, pub (Most of the noise is coming from Wahlter and Daeic)

 

Mortimer leans in towards the bartender.

“I'm looking for a Dr. Thibodeaux! A pilot next-door said I could find him here! Would you point him out to me please?” He asks over the din.

 

the bartender points.

“Sir Vahlter? He is over at that table mit his employees! Der Doktor is the old Englishman!”

 

Mortimer comes over to Wahlter's table. Wahlter is enjoying his second tankard of ale. Daeic is busy devouring his chicken wings. There are two empty seats across from Wahlter. Alestair is seemingly interested in something unknown up on the ceiling

“Good day to you, young man!” Wahlter booms. “Come for an autograph of the famous Wahlter Thibodeaux, eh?”

 

Mortimer takes a seat at the table across from Wahlter

“Actually, I'm here on business,” Mortimer replies, “ You see, I need you and your ship.”

 

Wahlter leans forward in his seat, hands folded on his table. Wahlter, Daeic and Alestair are all looking intently at Mortimer. Daeic is frozen midchew.

“Woah, woah, woah!!” Daeic exclaims through his mouthful

 

“Mister...” Wahlter begins, faltering.

“Mortimer Montgomery.” Mortimer chips in.

“Mister Montgomery, you must understand that I do not run a ferry service. I may be a retired professor, but I'm still a very busy man. I'm looking for a place of yore: The Curious Island of Cook. And I MUST find it before I retire.”

 

Mortimer becomes confused by the statement. Alestair leans in towards Mortimer.

Alestair whispers. “Don't correct him, mate. He's started to go a little senile.”

 

Mortimer smiles. “In that case, sir, I think we can help each other out. You see, I'm looking to get to Cook as well!”

 

Wahlter smiles back. “Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? You're hired! I need a new assistant; my butler is... no longer with us...”

 

Wahlter, Daeic, and Alestair bow their heads in silence.

 

Alestair leans in towards Mortimer and whispers, “He quit.”

This strip is designed to do 2 things: offer a general idea of Mortimer's objective, and show how difficult it is to get an airship pilot, especially if the destination is a myth, and especially if no one knows where the destination is. Originally had cut him right into the bar and find Wahlter, but when I looked at it something seemed off, things were just too easily done. I decided I had 3 options: Run with it, and hope the audience wasn't bothered, hang a lantern on Mortimer's luck. He is, after all, supposed to be subtly lucky; even when things don't work out they'll lead to a situation that just couldn't have happened (as well) otherwise. For instance when his rocket boots broke. *sigh* those rocket boots... If his rocket boots had not broke, he'd have gone on to Italy, and then he'd have never found the "band of merry travelers" he will now, or worse. I chose to insert this strip into the story, it took away the feeling of things being too easy, kept Mort's subtle luck in play, and it didn't break into or detract from the plot

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Setting: Düsseldorf docks, West Germany; August, 2009 AD, Afternoon

 

 

 

 

Mortimer enters the dockhouse. A plaque by the door reads “Rhein-Fluss; Luftschiff und Bootsyard.”

 

Mortimer asks, “Could I hire you to help me find Cook?”

 

Montage of random pilots:

Pilot1 “You want me to fly you to a FAIRY TALE!? Are you crazy?”

Pilot2 “Cook? That place doesn't exist. It's a story made up to give Romanis a sense of importance.”

Pilot3 “You're a little old to go chasing after fantasy and legend, aren't you?”

Pilot4 “Hah! Yeah, I'll do it. 500,000 euros an hour. Take it or leave me alone!”

[wide shot] Pilot5 “Nein!” Throws a wrench at Mortimer

Pilot6 (as he polishes his aircraft) “Cook, huh? If you ask me, I say Cook doesn't exist. A waste of time searching for it. No, I will not fly you around.”

 

Pilot6 looks at Mortimer. “You seem like you need this little adventure, so I'll point you to someone who just might. His name is Wahlter Thibodeaux . Doctor of archeaology or somethin'.”

 

Pilot6 shakes Mortimer's hand. “Dr. Thibodeaux can always be found in the pub next door nowadays. I wish you and your adventure all the luck. God knows you'll need it.”

This strip is short and to the point, but is by no way simple. One landscape picture in portait dimensions. The point of this is to not only show that Mort has moved, but also to slow the pace down a little bit, so that, once again, the audience is not overwhelmed by all the characters that I have to introduce. Also it shows off the bat the huge differences between the world I portray in the story and the world we are all familiar with.... It works better if you can see it.

 

I suppose I should say a little bit about where our intrepid hero Mortimer has landed. Well, welcome to West Germany. The Cold War did not end nearly as quickly as it did on our Earth, and as a result, The Berlin Wall was not torn down until the beginning of the 21st century. By this time, the influence of England and the Soviet Union on West and East Germany (respectively) was so ingrained that Germany was divided for good. Now the two countries are known as West Germany and Prussia. West Germany now speaks a pidgin of English and German, while Prussia speaks both German and Russian as separate languages. Where Germany used to be the center for science and medicine, West Germany remains so. Conventions and lectures are held so frequently, the universities, laboratories, and hospitals often see a lot of traffic, and West Germany sees a fair number of immigrants from the world over seeking occupations or study in the fields of science and medicine (This explains why Dr! JD Whitecastle, an American doctor and physician, is wandering around Düsseldorf).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Setting: Streets of Düsseldorf, West Germany; August, 2009 AD, Afternoon

 

 

 

Mortimer walks into a riverside plaza marked “Die Luft Plaza” Airships and riverboats of various sorts can be seen docked on the far side, their berth floating on the Rhyne, on the left of the docks a large building labled “Die Welke; Hotel und Pub” sits precariously on the bank, as though added as an afterthought. Storehouses, stables, shops, and market stalls line the rest of the plaza

I'm especially proud of this script. It was fun to write. And it foreshadows so much, but you'd never realize it unless I told you. Whoops, I just did. Well, exactly -what- this script foreshadows will remain a mystery. That I will not tell. The only "flaw" it has is that it's too long for one page, which I'm ashamed to say, I didn't notice very quickly, and that there isn't a clear break between the pages. Instead of overhauling this script, I'll probably just upload both pages at once.

 

In this script, I really introduce Mortimer and Jacques - past the brief snapshots I used earlier to hook the audience, and I "cameo" Jarvis at the very end in order to later demonstrate it's a small world after all, or at least a small city (Yeah, alright, that's one thing that you are privy to know that this script foreshadows). Jarvis isn't truly introduced until much later. Pity, really, but I have to introduce an entire airship crew as Mortimer collects them, I need to keep it relatively slow at least part of the time, in order to keep readers from being overwhelmed.

 

Well without further ado, here's the next installment of the "Like Clockwork" scripts:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Setting: Streets of Düsseldorf, West Germany; August, 2009 AD, Noon

 

 

 

 

Mortimer opens the door of a storefront who's sign reads :

“Bargus'

Mechanical Repair

Mechaniche reparatur” As the door opens, a bell rings.

 

Inside the store, on the wall behind the counter is a display of various tools and equipment, and a large gun rack. And a steel door.

 

Jacques steps through the door, wiping his hands on a worn rag

“Welcome to Bargus's. What can I getcha? ?” Jacques asks

"I need a repair job."

 

Mortimer awkwardly leans over to the side and unstraps one leg jet

"...this weld is coming loose."

 

Mortimer places his leg-mounted jet propulsion system on the counter. Jacques casually inspects the leg jets.

“I see...  did you make that yourself ?“

"They were a gift from my parents.  I think I've got a pretty good handle on how the mechanics work."

 

Jacques nods understandingly.

"Ah, I see.  Custom work can sometimes be harder to fix... It might take a while to fix these..." 

 

He ducks behind the counter, and pushes some drawers open.

"How long is a while?", Mortimer responds; more out of curiousity than impatience. He then adds quietly to himself "...Time might be a factor....

 

Jacques stands up with a smirk on his face and with a tray of scones in one hand, a plate in another. 

 

He removes the cover, and places a scone on it.

He says, "Well, to make sure the welding is applied at the correct temperature, the joint remains unaltered, and that the aluminum-to-oxide ratio is at the optimum level, that's a four-day job."

 

He hands the plate to Mortimer.

"If I do it, though, it would take maybe three, three-and-a-half hours. I have another commission to finish first, so it would be done by this time tomorrow."

 

Mortimer takes a bite out of the pastry.

"Wow, that's great. How much do I owe you?"

 

Jaques glares down at Mortimer with “glowing eyes of doom”

“That depends...” Jacques says. “How is the scone?”

 

Mortimer anxiously gestures towads th scones with both hands.

“Like I said, it's great! Delicious!”

 

Jacques' face turns to a grin.

"It's a simple job, 250 euros should cover it" Jacques muses.

"250 euros for a scone?? That's outrageous!"

 

Jacques chuckles at the joke.

Jacques says, "I like you.  Just promise to come back later for your bigger jobs, and I'll take half off the price for this job.  Only 125 euros."

“Sounds good to me!” Mortimer replies

 

The pair shake hands

 

“By the way, could you direct me to the air-docks?” Mortimer requests.

“Oh sure, Go left out of the shop, then turn north when you reach Vōlklinger. The docks are on the river there's a pub and hotel nearby. It's hard to miss.”Jacques explains.

“Thank you very much.” Mortimer says. “I'll be back tomorrow.”

“Have a nice day” Jacques says.

 

Mortimer steps outside. Jarvis walks by in the background.

“Just like clockwork.” Mortimer says to the air, smiling.

Amongst the song lyrics and novels I write, I also write scripts for webcomics. The one I'm currently focusing on is called "Like Clockwork". It's about a young gypsy named Mortimer, and a motley crew of misfits (an old senile retired archaology professor, a paraplegic pilot, a silent mercenary, , and about the misadventures they get into as they search for a legendary floating nation: The Curious Island of Cook. It's set in an alternate world where petroleum oil was never discovered to be a viable power source, instead society has continued to develop technology around water/steam, coal, and clockwork. History, and Geography will of course have departures from our own, such as the continued existence of East and West Germanies. The setting is supposed to be purely science fiction, but I want to give some people the impression - every so often - that paranormal/supernatural forces might be at work, just as there are people on our Earth that believe that there may be paranormal forces at work. But those cases where I set up those mysteries, are meant to be just that, mysteries: you'll never know the truth; I'll never know the truth.

 

At some point I will post bios on the main characters in the story, But for now, here's the first 'script' for "Like Clockwork"

 

 

 

 

 

Setting: Streets of Düsseldorf, West Germany; August, 2009 AD, Late morning

 

 

Snapshot of Mortimer flying along.

 

Snapshot of Jarvis walking along the street, whistling.

 

Snapshot of Seamus polishing his glasses.

 

Snapshot of Jacques heating something with his custom arcwelder.

 

Snapshot of Wahlter, Daeic, and Alestair sitting at a table in a pub. Wahlter and Daeic carrying on and drinking; Alestair watching and smiling silently. Abigail can be seen brooding in the corner behind them.

 

Snapshot of Jackie lighting a match.

 

Snapshot of Ophelia worriedly looking for her sister, crying out “Oleta, where are you?”

 

Snapshot of Oleta walking down a street with a man holding a gun pointed at her side, concealed to the passerby

 

Snapshot of the weld on Mortimer's leg jet breaking.

 

(Wideshot) Mortimer cries, “Oh nooooooo!!!” as he loses control of his flight path and plummets toward the grassy knoll below him.

 

Mortimer stands up

“Aw poop.”